====July 11, 2013
====W'rin, N'thu
====Sandblast's new Wingleader has some concerns for the Weyrleader. And permission to shake things up.

Who N'thu, W'rin
What Sandblast's new Wingleader has some concerns for the Weyrleader. And permission to shake things up.
When There is 1 turn 9 months and 9 days until the 12th pass.
Where Administrative Corridor, Igen Weyr



Administrative Corridor
This hall must once had a glory about it, surely: there is a grand geometry to its graceful archways, and a grave beauty to its even stonework. Yet this hallway bears the veneer of disinterest as plain as the rest of the Weyr. The floors go unswept, the walls unwashed: a thin layer of green growth coats many a corner. (Moss, feeding off the light of the glows. Well - let's hope it's moss.) Grime clings to grout lines, spinner webs dangle from the glorious archways. Only the occasional footstep stirs the dusty floors, for most of the Weyrfolk have little occasion to venture here.

It's after dinner, and N'thu has managed to escape the bustle of the Living Caverns and the Parhelion table — where he was stealing food off the plates of a few brownriders, and they in turn off him, the beauty of old friendships — to make his way back to actually doing work. The constant mental bustle of reports on the eggs from Itzquintlith has him occasionally stopping in his tracks and whispering something tantamount to 'not now,' but nothing stops the incessant forest noises. Nothing. Not even the fact that he's got a file or two in his hands and seems to be making for the Archives either to replace it or add more to it — likely the latter, as he keeps looking down at it as if to be sure he knows exactly what he's handling. Despite the fact that he has a clear trajectory, the Weyrleader seems imminently interruptable.

W'rin enters like a squall, a man on a mission, a furious and rather loud mission. There has been relatively little sleep, or time for eating for the giant of a man who comes in from the caverns like a tornado, Faranath help that kid who works in the kitchen when he accidently crossed his path. But he pulls to an abupt stop, oh, he didn't expect to find N'thu so easily. Right there in the corridor. This causes the man to pause for a moment, collect himself, shove some of the emotions way down deep before flicking of a salute, though his face cannot be devoid of the anger which has been bubbling within the man for the last day, he says nothing about it. "Weyrleader." Cold and with an edge of bitterness he continues, "Got a minute?"

"Wingleader." N'thu is not smiling, only because his easy smile doesn't come to surface when the person approaching him looks pissed. That said, he still seems to be paying attention enough to W'rin's emotions that he does maintain an expression of cautiousness, returning the salute and continuing, "Quite a few, even. This can wait a bit; there are still many hours before dawn." Sleeping? Is for other people. N'thu rarely remembers to, and his 'second and a few of the wingleaders aren't much better — especially not with this murder business about. Igen: workaholics and total slackers, no middle ground.

W'rin understands and if he was an empathetic guy he might slap N'thu on the back in a show of solidarity, but he's not. He's W'rin. And now that he is looking upon the weyrleader for the first time since Teya gave him his order, he's finding it much harder to stay calm than he had anticipated. Though his expression stays as fierce as before, the rising color of red cannot be stopped. "Weyrleader. You want me to fix the fucking Sandblasters? Then I need your permission to do it -" His steely gaze finds the man, yah he's pissed, but he's still going to do what the weyr needs. "I want permission to clean house."

"Ah. Yes," says N'thu, countenance remaining serious but without any hostility or contempt. He's not actually surprised W'rin isn't super pleased about this idea. "That was — not something that had been so much planned in advance as came up. Itzquintlith and Ryglinath had been conversing, and I knew that the Weyrsecond was with you, and it — well. It seemed like you were by far the best candidate to shape things up; I wasn't entirely sure you'd do it, though I promise you it's because I hold you and your abilities in the highest esteem and not because I want you to have a bad day. You have permission," he continues, relaxing a little as he talks, "to do whatever you think you need so long as no one is perilously injured. Though I am curious how you plan to do so, it's mostly just because I am. Curious. Trying to learn from those who go before me and whatnot. Not because I think anything you plan on needs to be judged. I just hope they shape up fast, as of course, you belong with your wing."

The weyrleader's speech does nothing to appease W'rin in fact it seems to have the opposite of the desired affect. The fuming man's attempt to keep a rather explosive temper to himself. "It wasn't presented to me like I had a choice, and this was done on the spur of the moment? Over a conversation? N'…Weyrleader, I have riders who depend on me. We aren't the best because I take the best riders. They are the fucking best because I take good riders who work hard and make them that way. I have riders who need me." Does the man understand this, "No input from me at all? Wingleaders are - we aren't obitrary figureheads that can be easily replace -Why the fuck didn't you tell me? I never thought you liked me much, I at least thought you //respected me…" The uncharacteristic tirade from the wingleader is met with frantic search for an outlit, the only thing he finds is a wall, which quickly becomes his release, the anger held in his fist. Momentary clarity of mind. He holds up a hand, head sagging downward as he breaths, "I apologize, Weyrleader. As I was saying, I don't think you quite understood. I would like to be able to remove people from the wing." The weyr? He really doesn't care what happens to them after, "I'll keep anyone who is willing to work. Even P'rask, but the lazy fucks have to go. I can make anyone better who wants to learn, but no one can help those who refuse it."

"We were weighing options. Q'fex's departure was rather sudden," N'thu offers up as his only defense, because really, he is still new at this. His leadership style has had to deal with a lot of bumps in the road, including murdered Weyrlingmasters and bringing in staff from High Reaches, arresting friends, and suddenly one of his leaders is Weyrleader somewhere else. "And thus most anything we've done to compensate for it has also been very sudden. If an opportunity presents itself at the moment we are best equipped to just take it. And on the contrary, Wingleader, I do like you. A lot, in fact. I think very highly of you, and my liking you does of course come with the utmost respect." Breathe in, breathe out. Punched walls can be repaired. Damaged relationships can not, and N'thu is still but a duckling in this position. "Agreed," he says solemnly. "Those who will never learn will never be safe in Threadfall. Demote them to weyrling if you absolutely have to. We've got crackerjacks running that department for now."

This response does deflate the man's furious rage some, the color turning to a soft pink, "It should have come from you N'thu. It should have come from you. 17 years I've given to that wing, this weyr, the least could have done -" Shaking his head W'rin sighs, "I don't think you understand Weyrleader. Some of the riders who need extra help, I think that is a good idea, something," Grimace, "Weyrsecond Teya and I have discussed. I thought it was a very good idea." Despite how his personal feelings about the woman have changed. "But a lazy rider. A rider who doesn't understand duty. No matter where you shuffle a shitty person they'll still be shitty…" He pauses, "And really why should a we give resources to a rider who won't pull there weight." His eyes level on the weyrleader, does he see now? "I don't mean many. A lot of riders on Sandblast just haven't been given the opportunity to learn, they're lazy because they haven't been taught. That's different. But the other ones…"

N'thu seems — pleased, if a little bit strangely so, at the turn the conversation takes. At the mention of W'rin and Teya discussing, he nods, and that's where the smile comes out a bit. "Amongst the disaster that is this weyr we do still have some brilliant minds around. Excellent when they come together." In other words: he approves. "And — I know. It should have. If I hadn't been dealing with High Reaches literally at that moment, I would've joined your discussion. I do apologize, Wingleader, and I hope you'll accept my apology. As I, in turn, accept your request to demote, promote and reshuffle Sandblast however you need. Including terrifying people into shaping up. That sort of thing's what Threadfall is going to call for." Where has this streak in N'thu come from? The fun-loving, laid-back boy? Answer: someone got murdered while he was Weyrleader, and the dam of his dragon's eggs died. The playboy has been shocked into serious business.

"The weyrsecond has some decent ideas, Weyrleader. I hope she advices you well." He pauses, scratching at his beard now that his request has been approved, "I think perhaps it would be best if you knew what it looks like on the outside. I know you are an introspective man, N'thu, and that isn't bad, but when she's the voice it looks like she is running the show." The message delivered with the same tone as the advice he gave many months ago in the council chambers, where he asked for only one thing from the man. His wing. "I appreciate your consideration, Weyrleader. I'll have Sandblast good as …well decent in no time." Then he'll be back home, where he belongs. Anger broken, now there is job to do. He offers a grin to the man, "If you'll excuse me, Weyleader. I have some things I need to work on." He snaps up a salute but waits to be dismissed.

And N'thu remembers that conversation, and remembers that promise: "We hope to get you back to Whirlwind as soon as possible. No one wants to make you suffer — well, at all, but especially not any longer than the Weyr needs. As for Teya — we've discussed it, sometimes she speaks up first, and if you're referring to the goldriders' departure for Southern, she did tell them to talk to me." There's irritation there, now: while he's gotten over it, Teyaschianniarina had informed him of just that fact. It had to go through him. Did it? Apparently he's none too pleased with the outcome, though considering he enjoyed Southern's party, it seems that he isn't one to hold any grudge. N'thu likes everyone. Mostly. "She, I promise you, is not walking on me at all. Wrong place, wrong time, at times." (Wrong pose order, at one time.) "I haven't had concern from many, as most people have been treating me as they should — concern is noted, of course. As for consideration, I'll consider anything you tell me. You're our best wingleader, W'rin, and I look forward to seeing the outcome of your work." There's a grin with his salute. Go get 'em good.

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